Observe This!
by Genieva was a Diver
Summary: This will be a series of drabbles that I will be attempting, in a new fandom. Happy reading!
1. Smile

_Hi everyone. Just getting familiar with writing drabbles and dipping my toe into some new fandoms. As for who this is... it's whoever you think it is. Happy reading!_

* * *

Raph does this weird thing with his mouth a lot. Master Splinter says it's called a scowl, and that it's not a very becoming look. I don't know what it's not becoming, but it's sure not becoming any handsomer.

I always smile.

I've seen him try, but it always gets stuck half-way, like there's a kickstand on his tongue.

You know, he doesn't laugh right, either. Not normal-like, anyway.

He says he'd try if I were to do something funny for once.

The nerve of some people!

I don't think he knows_ how_ to smile.

I think I'll show him.


	2. Weird

_Second in a series of drabbles, told in youngish-Leo's voice. _

* * *

Mikey has always been weird, even when we were kids. He gets these ideas in his head, and. . .

Last week, Don was a human in disguise. He couldn't just naturally _be _that intelligent.

Mikey actually put a lot of thought into that one. I almost felt bad when I had to tell him he was a lunatic.

Almost.

This week, he's into talking backwards.

Raph already wants to strangle him.

Don is the only one who knows what he's saying, and he gets a kick out of it.

Michelangelo is definitely weird, and the worst part? I can't stop smirking.


	3. Boxes: and their many uses

_To challenge myself, I tried something sad. I don't know if I like how it turned out... but it's only so much you can do with 100 words! This was very hard for me to write, and I almost did not post it. It makes me feel very sad. I hope it is not so confusing to all of you.  
_

* * *

Until the age of eleven, all we had was trash and boxes.

Trash because we lived in a sewer, and boxes because we often slept in them.

I had no idea what else boxes were for.

Peering through the sewer-grate one day, I saw one. Many things crawled on each other to get out. Humans came and went, until the mewling stopped.

The following week, I went to retrieve it. Only it wasn't empty. There was something in it, small and unmoving.

I stared, horrified.

That day, I learned another use for a box: _for things that no one wanted._


	4. Worry

_I'm pretty sure everyone, even Mikey, was speaking before 7... but hey. I wanted to try a Master Splinter one. I don't think I got him right, but at least I tried? I want to try a different writing style or something too... maybe next time...  
_

* * *

_ Michelangelo had worried me greatly as a child._

_When his brothers began to speak, he simply murmured and babbled._

_'**You must learn to speak, my son**,' I would tell him._

_'**P**_**_eek, peek_**_!' he would reply._

_I grew frightened for him._

_He did not speak a word until seven years of age._

_Now, years later, it appears difficult beyond belief to keep him quiet._

_I do not understand this phenomenon, but I have been extremely grateful for it. _

"Mike, will you _shut up_?"

"It's a free country!"

_His brothers, it seems, do not always agree._

"That's it, c'mere!"

"Leo! Help! Leo!" 


	5. Instinct

_I always thought it was strange how accepting of the turtles Splinter was automatically. I haven't gotten that far into the new cartoon, so I don't know if the story is any different from the movies as to how he met them and 'saved' them. Also, I can't see him instantly letting them share his nest, but I thought maybe the coffee can would be just the first step in his higher-thinking, and that maybe more events would follow before the turtles grew too ill from not eating and stuff. I hope I didn't offend anyone or ruin anything. If I did I apologise! _

* * *

High atop a leaky pipe, the rat sits and waits, whiskers a-twitching.

The creatures are still, not like before when they were crawling and lively.

Why do they sleep?

Do they not understand that if they do not build a nest (as he has), they will die?

He approaches, finally. Not one stirs, or even appears aware of his precense. He realises for the first time that these are younglings. Instinct tells him to leave them, but something else, something unfamiliar and strong, instructs him to gather an old spoon and coffee tin.

It is the least he can do._  
_


End file.
